Healing has been less about doing everything right and more about learning what actually helps me feel like myself again. Some days flow smoothly and some do not, but here is what an ordinary day looks like for me right now.

Morning

I roll out of bed and head straight for my glass of hydrogen water. It feels like a small thing, but it is my way of saying, “Okay body, I am taking care of you.” After that, coffee comes next. I like to take a few quiet minutes before the day takes off, stretching a little, breathing, or just sitting with my wonderful husband, Michael while we wake up together. Those first moments set the tone for me more than I used to realize.

Midday

By lunchtime I need to move. Michael and I love to go for walks, nothing fancy, just around the neighborhood. It is one of my favorite parts of the day. We catch up, laugh, or sometimes just walk in silence. Being next to him, holding his hand, reminds me I do not have to carry everything on my own.

Afternoon

The afternoons are usually when I feel my energy drop. I have learned to check in instead of powering through. Do I need to rest? Do I need to write down the thoughts spinning in my head? Some days I grab my journal, other days I lie down and let myself actually close my eyes without guilt. That part is still a work in progress.

Evening

Evenings are about connection. Sometimes Michael and I cook dinner together, sometimes we just throw something simple on the table. What matters most is slowing down. Trauma used to keep me wired and restless at night, like I could not let my guard down. Now I practice being present, laughing with Michael, watching a show together, or just sitting outside before the sun goes down.

Before Bed

I do not end the night with a big routine. I keep it simple. Maybe I read for a few minutes, maybe I listen to something calming, or maybe I just put my hand on my heart and breathe. It is enough.

What This Means

Healing has not been about fixing myself. It has been about noticing what helps and letting that be enough. A walk with Michael, a glass of hydrogen water, five minutes of breathing, these little things add up. On the hard days I remind myself that showing up in any small way still counts.